


Graceful Dreams Parsed and Examined

by Piehead



Series: Kent Parson and Mike Stand, the Enigmas [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Grace and Mike are the same lmao, M/M, Parse Posi Posse Inspired, Rocker Boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piehead/pseuds/Piehead
Summary: The love of Kent's life is in a band and sings him a song. They exchange the first love words.





	Graceful Dreams Parsed and Examined

**Author's Note:**

> THE PARSE POSI POSSE CAME UP WITH A ROCKER BOYFRIEND FOR KENT AND WE'VE ALL GOT OUR OWN DIFFERENT VERSIONS OF HIM
> 
> My version of Mike Stand (his stage name) is Grace Jade, the bassist in the band who writes most of the songs and acts too. He's a good guy who's so far gone for Kent. He's So Far Gone.

Kent sees too many tweets in his timeline when he’s checking his phone before the presser. He thinks it might have been a bad idea to follow so many of the hardcore fans of Grace’s band but he likes being in the know, especially when he’s away on roadies. He sees too many of them now, though, retweeting again and again and talking about some new video? He almost rolls his eyes; Beck posts a new video every other hour almost and Christian just goes along with things. The only ones with any semblance of sanity are Oscar and Grace (Kent didn’t want to think about Carmen; she was level-headed as only a babysitter of four huge kids could be).

But as Kent finally started reading (starting from the top, with his fave twitter icon and the self proclaimed biggest fan of Mike and the Stands, vivalamikestands) he found out that the video that had dropped (shared on Beck’s page, _of fucking course_ ) wasn’t of Beck or Christian, but of _Grace_. It’s Grace, sitting in their tour bus, his bass laid over his lap but a ukulele in his hands. He’s smiling at the camera, laughing whenever Beck says something stupid about the size difference and Grace’s hands (big hands, hands Kent loves, hands that hold his face when they kiss, hands that soothe the aches when he’s tired). Kent scrabbles for his earbuds immediately to listen.

“Come on, Mike!” Beck urges. “Play the song!”

“You promise you’re not gonna post this?” Grace asks.

“Dude, you already know the answer to that,” Oscar chimes in. Christian’s laugh echoes in the background and Kent misses them, he really, really, misses all of them, because they keep the apartment lively when they’re over even if it’s never quiet and he had to soundproof the walls over the winter.

“Just play the song!”

Grace sighs and then he starts strumming the ukulele, down, down, up, down. Kent’s not really paying attention to the chords, but he’s acutely aware of the words coming out of Grace’s mouth. The melody is soft and Kent’s heard it before, because Grace hums it in the kitchen while he’s cooking and whenever Kent asks him what it’s about he just smiles, cryptid, kisses Kent’s nose and goes back to what he’s doing.

But now the melody has words, and Kent doesn’t know what to do besides _cry_ while Grace describes their mornings, in the softest voice possible, soothing in a way that makes Kent relax after their game. Fat, ugly, tears roll down his cheeks as he listens to Grace describe his eyes, with a small laugh as he shifts between green, blue, grey, all the colors Kent’s told his eyes can be. He listens to Grace call him his Ace in the hole, his sunshine after the rain, his soft clouds and blue skies.

Kent listens and the tears flow freely and he’s trying so hard not to openly sob in the locker room because fucking Carl is still there, but Swoops recognizes his sudden silence and tells the guys to hurry the fuck up before they’re bombarded with cameras and mics. Kent is so grateful for it; he’ll send Swoops an edible arrangement later with as much pineapple as possible. Scraps leads with talk of the game, so that the reporters are drawn to him when they come in, keeping everyone’s minds off their captain.

The soft song ends and Kent takes in a shaky breath, ignored in his stall for the moment. He exhales through his nose and then picks up his towel, trying to dry his eyes. He hears the video still going, however.

“That’s for my own ace, love you babe,” Grace finishes out. Kent’s not even listening to whatever Beck is saying and he’s ignoring the cooing from Oscar and Christian, because all he can think about is the fact that this video dropped while he was on the ice and he can’t even _call_ Grace right now.

The interview is longer than it needs to be and Kent knows it’s because the reporters can tell his mind is elsewhere, the fucking hounds. But he’s had so many interviews he can dodge questions like a pro, and when Monica gestures to let them know time is up Kent’s dressed and he’s ready to leave. He’s probably the first back to their hotel and he’s half tempted to book a flight out to Texas to see Grace.

He doesn’t, because the moment he gets back to his room Grace is calling him.

“Saw the tail end of the game,” Grace’s voice says, smooth, soft, praising, different from when he was singing.

“Yeah?” Kent wants to talk about the song but he won’t interrupt Grace if he’s gonna talk about the game.

“Fucking wicked, Kent, I wish I could’ve seen you score in person.” Grace sounds like he’s still running on adrenaline, either from the concert or from the game. Kent practically preens under the praise.

“Skype me.”

It takes five minutes to set up his laptop and open skype and then he’s got a call from _gracing_jadegardens_ , his stupid punk boyfriend who thought he was clever and aesthetic. He can see that Grace has got his hair pinned back and his laptop is shaking every couple seconds, letting Kent know that he’s got it open on the bus. He hears Oscar yelling in the background but for the most part it’s subdued, because Grace has got his headphones in.

“Hey sugar pop,” Grace smiles.

“Don’t call me that,” Kent pretends to be annoyed but the pet name has grown on him and they both know it. Kent’s so soft for Grace he’s practically putty in his hands.

“Tell Jeff he’s appreciated for taking that check earlier. And _thank you_ for not winding up in the sin bin this time.”

“Bentley would’ve deserved it if I had punched him in his fucking jaw.” Kent’s annoyance rises so immediately it makes Grace laugh, because he can see it in Kent’s eyes.

“Twenty-two would’ve deserved it, yeah, but I’m glad you didn’t get him, because you might not have scored when the game was going into overtime.”

Kent doesn’t _huff_ but it’s a close thing. He supposes it’s not a loss that he didn’t deck Bentley but that doesn’t mean Kent’s gotta be happy about it. The way the asshole came at Mayer made Kent’s blood boil a bit.

“I guess,” Kent also denies pouting, because he absolutely _wasn’t_ pouting.

“Proud of you regardless, sugar pop.” Grace has got that soft smile on now, the one he reserves for just Kent, usually when it’s seven in the morning during the off season and neither of them have any obligations for the day. When Kent’s covered in bites and bruises and Grace has morning breath and promises pancakes and turkey bacon because he won’t touch anything that’s pork.

It’s interrupted by Christian and Beck crowding into Grace’s space to smile down at Kent. Grace rolls his eyes as they start their hellos and excited recount of the game, as if Kent wasn’t on the ice himself most of the time. Then they barrelled right into the subject Kent had been thinking about bringing up.

“Did you see Grace’s song?” Beck asks, because he’s coaxed Grace into taking out his earbuds so that all of them can hear Kent. “The song he wrote for you?”

Grace suddenly doesn’t look at Kent, looking like he wants to melt into the seats on the bus because his bandmates are basically his siblings and they’re _annoying_. He can’t make eye contact because he’s embarrassed, since he’d been working on that song for a long time and Kent had heard him humming it in the kitchen too many times now.

“I saw it.”

Then Grace’s eyes flicker to Kent, scared, hopeful. But Kent doesn’t see Grace; he sees Christian and Beck, looking eager for something. Kent doesn’t like that he’s being watched so closely, shuts off his camera because he doesn’t want Christian and Beck seeing him tear up again because _it was for him_. He sees Grace push Christian and Beck away and sees the headphones plugged back in, listens when Christian says “Way to go Beckett” and Beck responds with “What? What did I do?” because the idiot never knows when he’s done something.

“Sugar pop.”

Kent makes a small noise, a little strangled because he doesn’t trust himself to speak. In the back of his mind, a voice that sounds suspiciously like his therapist tells him he has to use his words, because communication is the key to every relationship and Kent can’t expect people to read his mind. He takes in a breath and then he sees that Grace is worried, his brow pulled together and his mouth turned down in a soft frown.

“Sugar pop?”

Kent turns the camera back on and tries to breath. He hadn’t noticed at first but he sees now that Grace has moved, to the back of the bus, towards where Grace sleeps.

“Kent? Why are you—” Grace cuts himself off, the worry bleeding into his tone.

“It was a really good song,” Kent finally says, the words coming out a bit stunted because Kent’s tongue feels too big for his mouth right now. “Really, really good. I. Um. I loved it.”

“Kent.”

“I love you.” The words rush out and Kent doesn’t have the mind to stop them.

Grace gets quiet, because this is the first time Kent’s ever said those words and Kent’s afraid it’s too soon, even though they’ve been together for almost a year now. Was it too soon? But Grace said it first, in the video—

“You didn’t have to, Kent, there was no pressure to, I’m sorry if you felt like you had to—”

“No I wanted to!” Kent cuts in. “For a while. I was afraid to but then in the video, you said it and I just. I love you, Gracie.”

Now it was Grace’s turn to be a bit misty eyed. The others are far off, nearer to the front of the bus, giving Grace the privacy he needs to talk to the love of his life. And it really hits home for Kent that Grace loves him when he sees his boyfriend crying.

“I love you too, sugar pop.” Grace smiles again, the soft one Kent loves, and leans a little closer. “We’re home in two days, after one more concert before we’re back in Vegas.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Kent decides, smiling his own smile, the one that’s rarely real but is always genuine for Grace.

They talk about everything else now, but they’re soft even across the distance that spans them. Grace falls asleep on skype, exhausted, and Kent doesn’t hang up when he falls asleep too. Because when he wakes up at seven am to Swoops shaking him, Grace is still there, watching him, and they share those soft “I love yous” again before they start their days.

Two days later, when Grace is home from the tour, the two of them fall into bed and stay there for hours.

**Author's Note:**

> I need to go back and write how they met (y'all are gonna love it).


End file.
